Ted Littleford
(Opinion) We’ve been here before. Our hearts clenched in anxiety, anger and fear as we awaited a conviction of Derek Chauvin that was so uncertain — and so rare.
These verdicts carry so much meaning, so much heartache and so much pain. They help determine how our country confronts its brutal past and how it begins to level and rebuild the foundational beliefs and institutions that uphold our still-racist present.
The world breathed a collective sigh of relief on April 20 when Derek Chauvin was pronounced guilty on all three counts related to George Floyd’s murder. The ten hours that elapsed between the trial’s conclusion and the jury’s decision felt to me like an eternity.
To so many, this verdict seemed like common sense. But Black, Latinx, and Indigenous people in America know that more often than not, accountability is evaded by perpetrators and justice is denied to Black and brown victims and their families.
Chauvin’s guilty verdict feels miraculous. Let us not forget that his fate is extremely rare. Between 900 and 1,000 people are shot and killed by police each year in the United States. Black and brown people are disproportionately the victims of these fatal shootings.
According to data compiled by the Washington Post between 2015 and 2019, an unarmed Black person in the United States is over four times more likely to be shot and killed by a police officer than a white person; a Hispanic person is about 1.5 times more likely. But since 2005, only 19 non-Black officers have been convicted for fatal shootings of Black victims, and only one has been convicted of murder.
While we may celebrate the very few cases that have ended in justice, this does not lessen the tragedy and pain caused by these murders at the hands of law enforcement. Nor do the few instances of police accountability change the reality that the overwhelming majority of Black and brown victims of police brutality never see justice. In New Haven in April 1997, 21-year-old Malik Jones was shot and killed by a white police officer despite being unarmed. The police officer involved never faced charges. This is one instance of a national pattern. Around the United States, the murders of thousands of Americans like Malik, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Philando Castile, and Breonna Taylor still go unanswered for. Their stories remain unfinished. We continue to mourn these losses each and every day.
On April 20, I cried more than I did when Barack Obama was elected president. I cried for every Black man and woman who did not receive a fair trial for their murder. I cried for those in my country who truly believe that Chauvin is a hero. I cried for my eight brothers and 26 nephews. Because while yesterday was certainly a victory, they will continue to live in a terrifying reality where many still see them as Public Enemy No. 1. I cried a river of tears, and then I went back to work to do my part in transforming the reality that my brothers, my nephews, and all Black, brown, and Indigenous Americans are forced to live in.
Together, we are in the midst of building a new paradigm. Reinventing the narrative does not happen overnight, but the outcome of this trial is a significant step in the right direction.
George Floyd should still be here today with his family, raising his 7‑year-old daughter, Gianna, and living the life that was his right to live. It should not have taken yet another tragic end to a Black life to push the needle forward. Nevertheless, Floyd’s murder has brought more visibility to the Black Lives Matter movement than ever before and inspired a necessary rage in the hearts of millions. For our white brothers and sisters whose eyes were not open, for those whose eyes were just beginning to open, there can be no doubt or avoidance of the fact that we must change.
Today, we celebrate George Floyd’s life and the legacy that this trial leaves behind. We move forward with grateful hearts, relieved that the jury came to the right conclusion. And yet, we still cannot rejoice, because our loved ones are still not safe and well.
URU The Right to Be and our Covid-19 initiative have joined New Haven Police Department in partnership. It is our hope that we all can feel that there is a possibility to be a partner with the police department as opposed to being a victim.
We continue to fight for a future in which they will be. A future where all of us can breathe.
Maya McFadden Photo
Crystal R. Emery at a recent event related to her nonprofit, URU The Right to Be.
Crystal Emery is the founder and CEO of URU The Right to Be, Inc.
